


The Shemlen Sneeze Disease

by gaymingtrash



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 06:43:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4656654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaymingtrash/pseuds/gaymingtrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merrill catches a cold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Shemlen Sneeze Disease

**Author's Note:**

> A tumblr prompt fic: Forehead kiss, with Isabela and Merrill.

Walking through Hightown, Merrill sneezed, and looked immediately taken aback. Her face had just _spasmed_ , and she’d made the most absurd little noise – like the squeak of a rodent.

“By the Creators, what was that?” she asked, alarmed.

“A sneeze, Daisy?” Varric suggested, barely concealing his amusement.

“Oh no,” Merrill said seriously. She looked down at herself, as if expecting to have grown extra limbs or to have turned green.

“You probably have a cold,” Isabela said gently. “Or you got dust up your nose.”

Merrill looked down at her nose, cross-eyed, then blinked hard. Crossing her eyes hurt, apparently.

“We don’t have colds in our clan – it’s always been somewhat of a myth. ‘Ooh, the shemlens, with their runny noses and water-y eyes!’” she said.

“Keep your fingers crossed you haven’t caught our nasty disease, then. Pray for dust up the nose,” Hawke said with a laugh.

* * *

It had been a few days, and nobody had seen Merrill. Isabela decided to drop into her house in the Lowtown alienage. She knocked, to no answer, but the trusting elf always left her door unlocked, so she let herself in. She found Merrill all tucked in bed in her nightclothes, with red-rimmed eyes and a bright red nose.

“Oh, Merrill,” Isabela said sympathetically. “You really have got it bad.”

“Oh, Isabela, I feel _awful_ ,” Merrill said, with a sniff. “My throat hurts, and my head is pounding, and everything’s _drippy_.”

“Poor thing. Do you have any honey?” Isabela asked.

“In the cupboard in the kitchen, why?” Merrill replied, baffled.

“Honeyed drinks are good for a sore throat – I can’t help with the drippiness, though.”

Isabela walked through to the little kitchen, and boiled a pot of water on the stove. She added honey, and let the water cool a little.

She brought the concoction to a very grateful Merrill, who took a sip and made a small ‘ah’ noise of relief. She looked very pathetic with the blanket drawn up to under her chin, and her sad, water-y eyes.

Isabela couldn’t stop the pang of affection that she felt in her heart, so she leaned over the bed and gave Merrill a kiss on her warm forehead.

“Feel better, kitten,” she said, tucking Merrill’s hair behind her pointed ears.


End file.
